Therapy
by moonupabove
Summary: Based on a headcanon where McKinley has a phobia of therapy and psychologists, due to being sent to conversion therapy when he was in middle school.


A/N: This was supposed to be a 500 word drabble. Part of the reason I wrote this is to try and curb some of my unfounded fear of conversion therapy, even though there is zero chance my family would do that to me. I digress.

headcanon: McKinley has a phobia of therapy and psychologists, due to being sent to conversion therapy when he was in middle school.

Clouds hovered over Salt Lake City, making the Saturday morning dark as evening. Anyone outside wandered to their destinations with an aura of drowsiness. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, and the earthy scent of weather turning began to creep through Kevin's window. He got up and opened the blinds to brighten the room just a fraction before crawling back into bed, where McKinley was still asleep.

Kevin had rented this tiny apartment as temporary residence for him and McKinley while they waited for Arnold to sort out a larger place for them and Nabulungi somewhere else. Kevin's parents had offered to take them in, but Kevin felt it would be unfair to both them and McKinley. They had even shipped Kevin's bed to the apartment, so he would "only have to buy one bed instead of two." In Kevin's thank you note, he said it definitely considerably cut down on their expenses. He left out that it was mostly because he had no intent of purchasing another bed and that he and McKinley would be sharing this one. What his parents didn't know wouldn't hurt them. The apartment ended up being so cramped that they had to push the bed up against the wall to make space. McKinley opted to sleep next to the wall, saying he felt safe sandwiched between that and Kevin.

The blankets were simultaneously cool from the breeze and warm from lingering body heat. Kevin tucked an arm under his pillow and laid the other limb gently over McKinley's waist. He watched the rise and fall of McKinley's body for a few minutes before reaching up and stroking his cheek, slowly bringing McKinley back to consciousness. McKinley rubbed his eyes with the back of his fingers and opened them to blink at Kevin.

A smile bloomed on McKinley's face, and he moved on the mattress to lie closer to Kevin. He wrapped an arm around Kevin and pressed his hand against his back. The two shared a quiet, slow kiss that ended in soft sighs.

"Good morning," McKinley said with a grin.

"Morning," Kevin affirmed. "How did you sleep?"

McKinley traced Kevin's shoulder blades. "Pretty well, actually."

"Mmm, good," Kevin hummed and kissed McKinley again, letting the tip of his tongue brush McKinley's bottom lip. McKinley parted his lips further in response and held Kevin gently by the jaw. A gust of wind rattled their window, and the two pressed closer together against the chill.

Kevin rested his palm against McKinley's neck and felt his heart beat. He glanced back at those blue eyes and let their noses touch. "I was thinking about something yesterday."

"I'm sure you'll share," McKinley chuckled.

"After we get all settled down, all of us," Kevin continued, "Wherever we happen to go, I think we should find you someone to talk to."

Kevin felt McKinley's pulse spike for a fraction of a second. "What do you mean?"

"Well, after years of trying to turn yourself straight, having hell dreams every night, and getting kicked out by your parents, I really think you should be going to therapy."

McKinley's pulse quickened slightly again, and didn't slow down.

"I don't need a therapist," McKinley stated. He pressed a hand to Kevin's chest. "I have you."

"Yes, you do, and please please know I'm always here to listen to you," Kevin said, stroking McKinley's chin firmly with the pad of his thumb. "But I'm not a professional, and there's really stuff you need to work out with one."

"I don't want to."

Kevin sighed. "Listen, I can't make you do anything you don't want to, but this would really be best for you."

McKinley clenched his jaw. "Don't tell me what's best, Kevin."

"For goodness' sake, how many nights out of a month did I find you covered in sweat and near tears because of your dreams?" Kevin snapped. He nearly stumbled over his next words when he felt McKinley's heart begin to pound. "If that was fabrication, I can't imagine what went on in your mind. We're going to find you someone."

"Please don't make me go," McKinley's voice cracked, and he squeezed his eyes shut as they started to defocus. "I don't want to go please!"

Kevin felt his mouth go slightly slack and his eyebrows furrow when McKinley clung to his chest and continued to beg into his shoulder. He felt tears wet his nightshirt, and held McKinley tightly while he tried to calm him down with soft coos and occasional whispers of affection. Confused as he was, Kevin knew that McKinley needed to be grounded and brought back to the present.

Most of McKinley's words were garbled from sobs, but Kevin caught him whimper, "I don't want to go back."

"Go back?" Kevin pressed McKinley back far enough to see his face. His cheeks were ruddy, and his eyes had already began to puff up. "Have you had a therapist before?"

"K-kind of," McKinley stammered and tried to hide in Kevin's neck again. He was held still and watched silently. McKinley shook his head. "So I just-just really don't need another, okay?"

Kevin's eyes dimmed and his eyebrows relaxed. He brushed his hand down over the nape of McKinley's neck and asked, "What kind of therapy was it?"

"Conversion therapy," McKinley said quietly, looking down at Kevin's chest. "My parents sent me in sixth and seventh grade."

Kevin didn't say anything else, but held McKinley against his chest and rocked him.

After a few minutes of silence, rain began to fall. It drummed against the roof steadily, and Kevin could feel McKinley breathe normally again. Kevin inhaled deeply, then said, "I shouldn't have pressed it like that. I'm sorry."

"No, it-it's," McKinley cleared his throat, "It's fine. You just want to help me, it's not your fault. You didn't know."

Kevin kissed his forehead and brushed back his auburn hair. "I still shouldn't have done that. I didn't mean to bring back bad memories." He nuzzled against to the soft skin of McKinley's cheek and pressed his lips there.

"You don't have to tell me what happened," Kevin said. "Not unless you want to."

"I-I do," McKinley sniffed. "I should, anyways."

Kevin nodded. "No obligation."

They laid together in silence. McKinley began to talk as the rain began to get heavier.

"I'd mentioned how I felt about Steve just once, and it was instantly treated as a big deal. Mom told me the way I thought about him was opposite of what Heavenly Father wanted, and Dad insisted I 'nip this sort of thing in the bud.' I was sent to Exodus at the age of eleven.

"They sat me down and interviewed me. I was asked to describe every single thought about boys I'd ever had. I'd never felt so embarrassed in my entire life. They diagnosed me, and told my parents to bring me back three times a week for a few months.

"They tried shock therapy first. It only went on for two or three sessions, but it was absolutely terrifying. My memory was damaged for two months. They gave me drugs that made me feel like I had to throw up while showing me really-really harsh male porn-"

"You were fucking eleven years old," Kevin hissed. He'd squeezed McKinley so close to him that their bare skin began to stick together.

McKinley nodded and swallowed hard. "I was eleven years old. Whatever naive, soft fantasies I had had were annihilated. When they started to 'wean me off the program,' they taught me the 'turn it off' mantra. You know, just ignore those feelings. They'll go away. Guilt set in, and hell dreams followed."

There was silence again. Rain on the roof still fell, but with less intensity. The scent of petrichor was nearly overwhelming. Kevin could feel his arms getting numb, but only moved them to grip McKinley closer. McKinley released a heavy, long breath and rested his cheek against Kevin's neck.

"I'm so sorry. I won't make you go," Kevin cooed, rubbing McKinley's back. "Do what's best for you, I swear I'm always here."

"I know," McKinley nodded. He looked up at Kevin for a moment. "But I will think about it, I promise."

"I believe you," Kevin whispered, tilting McKinley's chin up for a kiss. "You're so strong, sweetheart."

McKinley froze and went silent, then shook his head. "Sorry, I-nobody's ever told me that before."

"Doesn't mean it isn't true," Kevin said. "You're the strongest person I know, I mean it."

McKinley felt his eyes prickle, and he kissed Kevin's neck tenderly. "I love you."


End file.
